Why Didn't You Tell Me ?
by Aliexandrie
Summary: the reunion . some puppy love .


His hair was longer than it had ever been, even in his youth. His face had never known such scruff. His nails could barely be considered as such, so raw and ground down, so covered in grime. His skin might as well have been leather in its thick coating of years old body oil and prison slime. He was in no state to do anything other than sneak into some muggle house for a shower, shave, and raid of the refrigerator before getting the hell out of town. And yet he could still be found loitering around in the wilderness behind Hogsmeade, a pooch with a purpose.

Perhaps it was stupid of him to stay here. Perhaps it was genius. Whatever the case, Sirius had business to take care of before he could go anywhere. His large paws would have to pad through the soggy village of Hogsmeade one last time. Wide, muscular shoulders brought him towards the grounds of Hogwarts, grounds that were no longer guarded by the shapeless mouths of soulless promises. It was just a waiting game from there, for he knew his old friend well enough to expect him before the day's end.

Remus did not disappoint. Within an hour of the pooch's arrival at the castle gate, the anticipated gothic carriage was lumbering toward him with a skeletal Pegasus in the lead. It was with carefully eyed timing and a graceful leap that the heavy dog skidded into the body of the vehicle, much to the shock of its single passenger. The water dripping off his coat made it hard for him to find his footing, and Padfoot only stopped his scrambling by hopping into the seat beside Remus to use him as a buffer. His big, wide, grey eyes fell on the tired looking man and his chops split to release a long tongue for a slobbery kiss.

"Sirius…" The name was breathed out as if the man who spoke it was in some great pain, and before the dog beside him had a chance to do anything, Remus was roughly shoving his large, wet body off the seat with a look of great anger.

"Have you _lost your mind_?" More of a hiss than a whisper, the words were strained and nearly silent in fear of drawing any attention. The werewolf glanced behind them at the barely visible castle, terrified that someone would recognize the beast for who he was. Sirius had let out a bark of protest as he was pushed away, much to Remus's distaste, before they both fell silent. The latter knew that there was no use in yelling at his old friend now, that there would be no talking him into getting the hell out of here until he was back in his human form.

Instead, the flustered brunet sat quietly as he studied his friend's animagus, taking in the matted fur and all too prominent ribcage until their carriage came to a halt. Sirius lead the way into the slick, mud-filled streets of Hogsmeade, following the same trail he had walked that morning; past the ever cheery Honeydukes, the warm Three Broomsticks, the deserted Shrieking Shack, and into the hills the wet dog moved, not stopping until sheltered from the rain by a relatively deep cavern in the side of a hill. The large, feathery head of a drowsy hippogriff lifted at the sound of approaching feet, only to rest back on its talons a moment later.

The cave was dank, filled with the smell of rat carcass and wet dog, and not very well lit. It was as Remus took in these surroundings that the dog at his side disappeared and was just as quickly replaced with the vision of his old friend.

"Moony… You look like hell."

"Is _this_ where you've been staying? Are you stupid?" The worry in Remus's voice was only outshone by the exasperation. He chose to ignore his friend's terrible 'greeting', as well as the heart jolting smirk on his gaunt face. They were a short half mile away from the village, one that had been swarming with dementors not 24 hours before, and Sirius had been _here_ the whole time. Of all the emotions raging through his mind, the only one Remus could identify was indignation.

"No. I think I am quite bright, actually." The corners of Sirius's eyes creased as a smile that hadn't been used in too many years made an appearance. "No one would expect me to be so daft as to hang around the sight of my escape, would they?" The man was all but beaming at his realization of his own genius.

"Well, you're clearly far more foolish than they give you credit for." Plainly not an argument to be won or lost, Remus let it drop and instead took to eyeing the other reproachfully with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not staying long…" Sirius shifted and moved a thin hand to tug nervously at the ends of his overgrown hair, the feeling of the werewolf's eyes burning into his skin. Even so, he allowed himself a moment to look the man over truly for the first time in years. God, Remus had aged. Years and years of stress cried out through every line of his face and through every prematurely grey hair on his head. Now that they were alone, that he was once more himself, that they didn't have the teenaged eyes of his godson on them, Sirius was free to reach out and press his callused and dirty fingertips to that tired face. The wolf's eyes closed in response, his brow furrowing, but as the touch barrier had been broken, Remus did not hesitate to step forward and wrap his arms around his childhood friend. His form relaxed as the embrace was returned and it was then that he realized how thin Sirius truly was. He could count each rib as his fingers flared out across the other's back, feel the sharp ridges of his prominent spine. The old, molded fabric hanging off of Sirius's chest was pulled taught as Remus's hands curled into tight, fraught fists, their search of the man's body cut short in despair. His head rested in the crook of a thick neck, a corner that was the perfect size for him to fit against.

As soft, uneven breaths beat again his neck, Sirius tilted his head to press his chapped lips to the side of Remus's sandy brown head. His arms lay in a relaxed circle around the other's hips, forearms resting in the soft cradle of proportionate love handles that were just his size. He could feel the werewolf's heart as it beat steadily against the bone of his breast, a beat far too frantic to be comfortable.

Silence fell for a long, breathless moment, a moment long enough for Remus's mind to wander. It didn't go far, revolving around the night before, all he had learned, all that had come to light in such a short period of time, all that had haunted him ever since.

"Why… didn't you tell me?"He didn't recognize the voice that left his lips as his own; it was far too weak, far too hoarse to be his own. The silence was cracked, and he could practically feel it crashing around him with a question that was far too serious. He wanted their reunion to be a sweet one, but he couldn't help the pull in his heart, the tug on his tongue's marionette strings that were being held captive.

No more elaboration was needed, for this was a question that Sirius had long anticipated, while waiting out the years in his cell, one that he had rehearsed his answer to time and time again. It was a rehearsal always accompanied by an endless stream of 'if only's. If only they had told Remus of the switch, that Peter was to take his place; he could have hunted the rat down and Sirius would have been able to salvage years of his life that were instead spent in prison. If only he had never insisted on the switch in the first place. If only they had left the fat, dorky boy to be bullied and never extended the hand of friendship.

Even after his years of preparation, Sirius had no defense for the look of pure betrayal on his old friend's face. As he pulled back from the warming embrace to look into Remus's eyes, the power of it was like a punch to the gut. Such agony, he had not been prepared for. With one arm limp at his side, the other rose to smooth a thumb over the werewolf's trembling lips before Sirius leaned forward to eclipse them with his own.

"I'm sorry."

Sirius's face was itchy against his own, his skin oily and unwashed, his lips dry and rough. His skin held a taste somewhere between that of morning breath and dirt, and the smell of wet dog was overwhelming. Even so, the kiss was enough to make Remus's heart crack with longing, and as he pressed back against the gentle pressure, he could feel his soul release and tremor back to its mate. The contact didn't last long. Remus seemed to deflate as he his toes uncurled against the worn out soles of his old loafers, the air leaving him slowly, deliberately, and his shoulders slumping. His skin felt cold suddenly, having met with such warm a moment ago, and he abruptly wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Come home with me. Just for a few hours…" Perhaps if he could clean the man up, feed him a hearty meal, give him a good rest, then the guilt in his heart would lessen. He knew that Sirius couldn't stay with him long, that the Ministry would be knocking at his door in no time, but it didn't make a difference. Any time with Sirius was better than none.

Remus didn't wait for an answer, instead pulling his wand from an inside pocket of his withered coat and grasping Sirius's hand. With the turn of his foot, they were no longer trapped in the confines of that dank cave. Instead, they had landed in a small, cement room. There were no windows, but three doors, a small refrigerator, table and chair, sink, and sad excuse for a stove. Above their heads sat exposed wires, fiberglass, and old, rotting, wooden beams. On one of the doors sat several locks, all of a different variety, all relatively unnecessary when magic was in question, but used regardless. Another sat half open, jammed as wide as possible up against a rickety old bed in a tiny bedroom. The last barely concealed a second room of the same size, instead occupied with a small metal cage, bolted to the ground.

Sirius sat in silence on the only chair in the room, taking in his surroundings as Remus moved to the scarcely stocked fridge. The look on the old dog's face was that of deep thought; his brow sat furrowed deeply, and his thin lower lip was pulled tight between his teeth. _This_ was where Remus lived?  
>"How uh… How long have you lived here?"<p>

It took some fancy wand work, and a modest knowledge of household cooking charms for Remus to be able to whip the bits of supplies he had, spoiled or not, into something edible for his guest. He worked in concentrated silence for a few minutes before answering Sirius, never the fan of multitasking.

"Almost nine years, I think. It isn't much…" Placing a plate of potato, meat, and vegetables on the table, Remus glanced around the main room of his basement apartment with a grimace. "I wasn't expecting company…" Sad attempt to defend his shabby home aside, the man didn't have many other choices. There weren't a whole lot of places willing to hand a lease over to a werewolf. And since he was rubbish at potion making and held no hope at getting his hands on Wolfsbane, everything was made much more difficult.

Sirius hummed in thought, but said little else, far too enthralled with the food presented to him. Thirteen years without a decent meal and even Moony's rotten food tasted like a little piece of heaven. There was a stretch of silence as the escaped convict ate at a pace that would surely make him sick. Remus hadn't made himself anything to eat, which struck guilt further into Sirius's already ridden soul at the thought that this was probably the last of his food. It didn't stop him from finishing the last crumbs from his plate, but it sat heavy in his sunken gut.

"Come on. We should get you cleaned up." With a stroke to a scruffy cheek, Remus wrapped his long fingers around Sirius's arm and helped him to his feet before leading the way into his bedroom. There was hardly room for both of them in there, and they had to clamber over the lumpy bed to reach to bathroom door, but somehow they managed. Remus began to draw hot water into his small, cracking tub, and he rested against the side of it with a glance back at Sirius.

"Strip." The command came shamelessly from a mouth far too worn out to argue. The man in question flinched in reply and shook his head.

"I am not taking anything off with you watching me." Though Sirius had never been a modest one, he was not about to bare himself for anyone's eyes at the moment, not with years of grime caked to his skin, skin that just barely clung on to his meatless bones.

"Goddamnit, Black. I don't have all day. You're going to waste all my hot water." Frustrated that his desperate attempt to help was being hindered, Remus rid the man of his clothing with a flick of his wand and grasped tightly to his wrists as he dragged him into the tub. The wolf shifted to sit on the side of the porcelain, crossing his legs sorely beneath him as he grabbed a washcloth with one hand and dunked his friend underwater with the other.

Sirius came up sputtering helplessly and whining that Remus could have given him a warning. Though he had resigned into the bubbling tub, he was not happy to do it. Still, he couldn't remain bitter with the hot water tugging at his tight muscles and eating at the layer of grim on his skin. Pushing his overgrown, and now soggy, hair out of his face, Sirius rested his head back in Remus's lap with a heavy sigh.

Soap was added to the washcloth in the werewolf's hand before the rough cloth met Sirius's skin gently. Remus drew it across the man's shoulders, revealing in its wake the true soft olive hue of his friend's skin. As the dirt was wiped away, Remus pressed his lips to the clean shoulder gently, "I thought you were in there somewhere," and continued with his work.

The smile on his face felt foreign and tight, but Sirius couldn't stop it from spreading as Remus's actions continued. He would have much preferred to keep his malnourished body under wraps, but he couldn't deny that this was greatly relaxing. It was a weight off his chest. The bath was soon filled with not just water but years of stress and grime and injustice.

It was a good twenty minutes before Remus was happy with his friend's hygiene, finally able to recognize him as he used to be. It was enough time for the man to shave, and for him to get all the tangles out of his abundant hair. The wolf stood from his seat at the tub's edge, groaning from the stiffness in his limbs while Sirius, still a little sore that he was so unjustly stripped by his old chum, took the opportunity of the man's dropped guard to rekindle the old prankster in his own soul. Still perched in the filled tub, he transformed back into a large black dog and gave a mighty shake, sending his filthy bath water all over Lupin and his tiny bathroom.

There wasn't enough time for Remus to turn around before the dog was gone and a mirth filled Black sat in its place. His laugh was almost a bark in itself, rusty and hoarse from lack of use, but just as boisterous as it had been when they were young. Sitting in just a few inches of water now, Sirius reached up and dragged a gaping Remus into the tiny tub with him.

"You might as well join me now." His face ached from the strain of his smile, one that he couldn't drop even if he tried. Years of the muscles going unused had caused them to weaken, though his smile was no less bright for it.

Even as the nude man wrapped his arms around his shoulders, Remus was pressing away from him with his hands on his thin chest, trying to put some distance between them before he was forced to punch his old friend in the face. Here he was, trying to show him some hospitality, a little tenderness, and _this _was the thanks he got? Infuriating.

"If you don't let go of me, Black, I swear to god-" Unfortunately, his threat went uncompleted as he was cut off.

"You know, Moony, you've got an odd sense of Romance. If sitting here, cleaning years of muck off me is what gets you off, then-"

"You stupid, goddamned, ungrateful bastard-" Before he could get out the rest of his insult, Remus was once again interrupted, this time by the touch of the other's lips. Hands curling to fists against Sirius's chest, the wolf gave in and let himself relax into the body below him. They didn't quite fit into the tub; Remus's legs were cramped awkwardly to the side and his back was bent uncomfortably, while Sirius sat curved forward with a faucet in his spine, but it didn't matter. The rest of the dirty water had soaked into Remus's clothes, and they were weighing heavily down on his shoulders and hips. But it didn't matter.

"I loathe you." The sentiment was lost in the breathy nature of Remus's strangled voice and the following chaste decent of his lips to a clean collarbone.

"Love you too."

* * *

><p>p.s.<p>

hey guys .  
>leave some comments here , let me know what you think .<br>also , i know the end is cheesy . / shot .

but i love them too much to care .


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